


Naming Rights

by Lavendergaia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendergaia/pseuds/Lavendergaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pregnant Jemma considers names for her children and the legacies those names carry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naming Rights

Being forced into an administrative role was Jemma’s least favorite part about maternity leave. She knew that working with highly toxic chemicals and the occasional bits of radioactive metal were potentially very bad for the babies, but paperwork was not that much better for her sanity. Leaving the desk that they had set up across the hall from the lab (and really, that was surely just to torture her, the lab walls were _clear_ ), she shuffled down the hallway in search of some decaffeinated tea to get her through the stacks of papers that needed to be sorted and filed.

Before she made it into the kitchen, she heard someone calling for her. “Simmons!”

Peeking into the Director’s office, she raised her eyebrows at Coulson, who was sitting behind the desk, shucking off his jacket. “Did you want to see me, sir?”

He waved her in. “Take a seat. How are you feeling?”

“Bored,” she said honestly, sitting in one of the chairs opposite his desk. She gave him a winning smile. “Have any field assignments for me?”

Chuckling, he unknotted his tie, letting it hang loose around his neck. “If by ‘field assignment’ you mean ‘OBGYN appointment,’ I think May has you scheduled for next week.”

She sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Just thought I’d try.”

“I’d rather your husband not kill me and for you, I know Fitz could.” He gazed at her thoughtfully. “Administrative work that bad?”

“It’s not altogether awful,” she offered with an attempt at a smile. “I just miss the lab. I know that Fitz and Mack are in there experimenting and Fitz says that Bobbi does a relatively good job picking up where I leave off at times, but obviously it’s not the same, though of course I appreciate her work! I’m used to doing a lot of writing and organizing, I have two PhDs after all, but then I was writing about science and my research and it was more interesting than budget reports. Though I did start a PowerPoint on some ways we could save money by being more energy conscious.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” he said, a twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. He tapped his fingers against the desk. “Is there anything else you would rather be doing that wouldn’t put the twins at risk? May said it was a higher risk pregnancy already even though you’re in great health.”

Jemma shook her head. “Really, I can handle desk duty for a bit. What would help is giving Fitz a bit less work? I know it’s hard to manage what needs to be done in a time sensitive manner and you’re already down one scientist, but he’s been very stressed what with new parenthood quickly approaching and two babies and he’s been so intent on getting the ultrasound machine built that he’s been working practically around the clock and I hardly ever get to see him. I know it’s important to him for us to have an ultrasound machine here even though it’s really not a necessity but then he talks about ‘what if there’s an emergency, Jemma’ or ‘what about for another baby’ even though I’m not even in the third trimester yet with the twins. Just…it’s important for me to see my husband when he isn’t overwhelmed with work,” she said, twisting her hands together, wedding ring warm around her finger.

Nodding with understanding, Coulson said, “I’ll see what I can do. And I’ll talk to Fitz too, just in general.”

“I appreciate that, sir.” Jemma smiled and laid her hands over her stomach. “Other than that, things seem to be proceeding as planned. Skye bought us like five baby name books as her contribution to the process, and that’s what I usually do when I need a break from the paperwork. Skye’s also threatened to buy us monkey wallpaper for the nursery and Fitz is completely enamored with the idea.”

“Monkey wallpaper?”

“I mean, they’re cartoon monkeys, but they’re still monkeys!” she said, voice laced with exasperation. “He just keeps reminding me that I wanted yellow or green anyway and the wallpaper has both and what could be more gender neutral than monkeys?” When Coulson just grinned at her, she let out a long breath. “I should let him have the monkeys, shouldn’t I?”

“I said nothing.” He straightened some folders on his desk. “But I do remember his heartbroken face when you listed all the possible diseases monkeys could carry and how one was never getting anywhere near your child as long as you were alive on this planet, so I don’t think wallpaper will hurt much.”

Jemma closed her eyes and shook her head. “I guess that’s what marriage is, letting your husband put monkeys in the nursery.” Smiling affectionately, she added, “He did promise to build me a wooden furniture set to go with the theme though and it will be much safer than whatever death traps they’re currently selling for children.”

Coulson picked up one of the baby name books that was sitting on the corner of his desk—they seemed to end up in random places all over the Playground where people would pick them up, highlight their favorites and drop them off for her and Fitz to find at later times. “How has the naming process been going? I’ve always been partial to Phillip, by the way, it’s a good name and has suited me well.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.” She couldn’t help but notice that the book had significantly more highlights than it had the last time she had seen it as he flipped through the pages. “Fitz and I actually have rather similar taste in names, luckily. We both seem to favor the traditional, but not necessarily out of style. Classic, you might say. Though Fitz defines it as nothing that his mum won’t recognize or would misspell.”

“Sounds like a good bottom line to me,” he said, uncapping a pen with his mouth and circling a name in the baby book.

Jemma was quiet for a moment as she stared around the office, wondering if she should even bring up what was on her mind. As one of the babies kicked her, as if to let her know to just do it, she cleared her throat. “There’s actually one name that I haven’t suggested to him yet. A name that I’ve always liked.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, Coulson said, “Well, I know John is a rather classic name, but I wouldn’t blame either of you if you associated it with Garrett and just crossed it right off the list.”

“No, no, that’s not it, and yes, we have. Actually, the name I was thinking of was Peggy.” She turned to look at her picture as Coulson stared at Jemma, wide-eyed. “I’ve always admired her, long before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. even. As a little girl, on the rare occasions I wasn’t imagining myself as a world renown scientist or _being_ Peggy Carter, when I thought of myself as a mum I always thought maybe I would name a daughter after her if I had one.”

Coulson didn’t respond for a minute, but when he did, he was smiling. “I think that would be amazing, Simmons. I think Peggy Carter would be honored for your child to continue on her legacy.”

Twisting a lock of hair around her finger, she said, “Really? Do you think it would be okay, though? I mean, she’s not some woman of myth that I used to dream about in my bedroom, I don’t want to name one of the twins after her if it would be inappropriate or distasteful. What if the Carters wouldn’t like it? What if they hate S.H.I.E.L.D. now? What if they would hate me for working for S.H.I.E.L.D.? What if someone else is pregnant right now, someone who actually knew her, and is going to name their child Peggy and wouldn’t want me doing the same thing?”

Standing up from his seat, Coulson walked around to the front of his desk, perching on the edge of it and taking Jemma’s hand in his. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” he said gently, squeezing her hand.

“I have a lot of time on my hands now that I can’t science.”

“I don’t think anyone would be upset at you for wanting to name your child after your childhood hero,” he told her. “But if you’re that concerned, why don’t you talk to Trip about it?”

Jemma nodded thoughtfully. “He is very calm and level-headed in most situations, he’s a good sounding board for these types of things.”

Coulson smiled. “Very true, but I suggested it because he’s actually met her.”

She gaped at him, brown eyes wide. “He…he what?”

“Has he never told you?” When Jemma shook her head, Coulson said, “Peggy Carter remained close with all the Howling Commandos even after Captain Rogers was lost in the ice, even after the SSR closed and S.H.I.E.L.D. started and a lot of them retired from active duty. I believe he even calls her ‘Aunt Peggy.’” When Jemma just stared at him in shock, Coulson smirked. “Regret marrying Fitz now?”

That startled a laugh out of her and she slapped his knee. “Sir! Of course not!”

He winked at her. “I would talk to Trip. I think Peggy Carter would be flattered that you want to name one of your children after her, but I haven’t done any more than admire her as you have. Maybe he can provide the insight that you need.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “I’ll definitely consider it.” In her pocket, her cell phone started to chime and she pulled it out to turn off the sound. “That’s the lunch alarm. Fitz and I schedule it so that we know we can see one another at least once during the day and so that we can each make sure the other is eating a good midday meal.”

Patting her shoulder affectionately, Coulson said, “Go eat lunch with your husband. And thank you for stopping by to talk to me. I know I haven’t been around as often as I would like, but it was good to be able to catch up with you.”

“Nonsense, sir, I know you do your best,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But I’m very glad to be able to talk to you always.”

As she went to go leave the office, he said, “Oh, Simmons? You should let Fitz have the wallpaper.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

\-----

That night she found Trip sitting in the lounge area with a beer watching a basketball game and enjoying a bowl of popcorn. A second beer was sitting on the table, waiting to be opened. Poking her head into his view, she said, “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” he said, patting the couch next to him. “Skye’s supposed to join me when she’s done training with May. She’s gonna pretend that she cares about the Lakers or anything sports related. Hunter was gonna watch but then said that basketball was too boring for him—this from a man who thinks soccer is the best sport on earth.” He hesitated, grinning at her. “I’m sorry if I insulted your country’s national sport or something.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Never was one for it myself.”

He nodded, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Yeah, well, he’s playing video games with Koenig now. Bobbi’s still out on assignment and last I saw Mack and Fitz were still in the lab.”

“They’re still working on the ultrasound machine,” Jemma said, rolling her eyes. “At this point I’m wondering if we shouldn’t have just bought one and claimed we were like a medical research lab or something.”

“You know even if you had, Fitz would still be tinkering with it and trying to improve it,” Trip said, offering her the bowl of popcorn. Taking a fistful, Jemma nodded. That was the man she had chosen to love. “So, how you feeling today, girl?”

“I’m doing well, morning sickness has mostly subsided.”

“I guess that means no more buying ginger ale by the truckload.”

She shook her head with a moan. “Really, I should have known it was twins by how sick I was.” Fitz, Skye, May, and Bobbi had created rotating shifts of who was to sit with her by the toilet and the only thing she could eat for weeks were saltines and chicken broth.

“What about your feet?” he said. “Need a rub?”

“Oh. Well, they didn’t until you mentioned it.”

Laughing, he said, “Bring ‘em here.” He arranged the pillows at the other end of the couch so that she could lean against them and then pulled her feet up onto his lap. Of all the people on the base, May and Trip gave the best foot rubs, after her husband, of course. May knew were all the best pressure points were, but Trip had stronger hands that were incredibly soft. She was going to miss all the pampering post-pregnancy.

As she sank into the comfort of the moment, she said, “You know, you never told me you knew Peggy Carter.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“I would have dated you if I had known that,” she told him frankly. “Had Hydra not revealed that they were in control of S.H.I.E.L.D. and essentially ruined all of our lives, of course, but had I known that and you had asked me out, I would have said yes.”

His face was alight with amusement. “But you still would have married Fitz.”

“Oh, definitely, I’m hopelessly in love with that ridiculous man.” She sighed. “But we could have had a nice time first.”

“Well, I will keep that in mind if this whole marriage thing doesn’t work out,” he said, tickling the bottom of her feet playfully. “What’s the sudden interest in Aunt Peggy?”

She pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’ve always loved Peggy Carter. She’s one of the reasons I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. And I was maybe considering…” She hesitated, licking her lips. “I thought I might name one of the babies after her.”

Nodding slowly, he said, “I can see that. I, personally, circled Skylar in the book, but Peggy’s a good name too.”

“If it helps, that’s been on our list of potential middle names.” There were so many more potential everythings with twins. “Do you think it would be right? For me to name one of the babies after Peggy?”

“Well, I’m not sure how great Peggy Skylar would sound—“

“Margaret, I would definitely go for the full Margaret, at least legally.”

He rubbed her leg, gazing at her thoughtfully. “Define ‘right’ for me.”

Biting her bottom lip, Jemma picking up a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl. “Peggy Carter _created_ S.H.I.E.L.D.; she did so many amazing things in a time when it was that much harder for women. And I worked—still work!—for a S.H.I.E.L.D. that has tarnished that legacy. And I know that we’re rebuilding a S.H.I.E.L.D. that she can truly be proud of, but what if it isn’t something that she wants to be associated with anymore? What if she wouldn’t want a former Level 5 biochemist using her name? I mean, the babies are going to literally live at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters!”

Trip stopped to think for a minute, seeming to organize his thoughts. “I didn’t know her all that well when I was growing up. She was a very busy woman, even after my granddad and a lot of the other Howling Commandos had moved on to other things or retired. I saw her kids occasionally and some of her other family members, but she was always off doing something to save the world. Sometimes she’d bring the family over for Christmas or Thanksgiving and every few years Jim would insist on a Howling Commandos reunion until all of them got too old to physically see each other, he would say, and we’d all pile in the car to drive over there and there’d be so many people. The Carters would always show up without fail, you were only allowed to miss a reunion if you were dead and she respected that.”

Jemma smiled at his story, touching his arm gently to urge him to continue. “I remember that she baked sometimes,” he said. “Scones because she was British and I didn’t like those as much, but also really good chocolate chip cookies. And she used to make tea, just like you do. And once when I was teasing my sister too much she pulled my sister aside and taught her how to punch me in the face.” Jemma laughed loudly as Trip shook his head. “It was one hell of a punch, but I deserved it. Nose bled everywhere, had a black eye for almost a week. My momma was not happy, but my granddad had the same reaction you did.”

“That’s the most amazing story I’ve ever heard,” she insisted.

“My sister got a degree in Art History and I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. so you can tell who she had the bigger impression on,” he said. He let out a long breath. “What I’m saying is, the Peggy I knew was always a fighter. And if she could still fight Hydra right now, she’d be doing it. And if she could be here with us rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D., she’d be kicking Coulson out of her office and running the damn show herself. So if you’re asking me if Aunt Peggy wouldn’t want you to use her name because you were fooled into believing the lies that other people told when you just wanted to be the big damn hero that you are, I say absolutely not. I think she’d be very impressed with you, Agent Fitz-Simmons and she’d be very excited about Peggy Fitz-Simmons.”

Smiling to herself, she reached out to pat his hand. “Thank you, Trip. That means a lot to me.”

“I just call it like it is. You know that.”

At that moment, Skye came bounding in the room, followed closely by Fitz. “Hey, there you are!” she said. “Found her, Fitz!”

“Yeah, I know, I’m right here,” he said, rolling his eyes affectionately. He smiled at Jemma as he walked up to the side of the couch. “You watching the game?”

“We were just talking,” Jemma said, moving her legs off Trip’s lap and rolling into a sitting position at her end of the couch with his help so that Skye could take her seat on the middle cushion.

Skye popped the top off her beer and took a long gulp before putting her hand on Jemma’s stomach to feel the babies kick. “How are my potential nieces and/or nephews doing?” Skye had taken to her role as future aunt extremely quickly and was very excited about the whole reproducing situation.

“They’re doing just fine, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it.” She leaned forward to kiss Jemma’s stomach and whisper, “I can’t wait to meet you guys. We are going to drive your parents crazy together.”

Fitz groaned, then picked up his wife’s hand and kissed it lovingly. “Do you want to finish watching the game? Do you want me to make you some…some tea maybe?”

She shook her head, holding her other hand out to him. “I’m ready for bed if you are.”

“Always.” He helped ease her off the couch and on to her feet. After saying goodnight to Skye and Trip, they made their way to their bedroom. There were some nights when she still missed the homeliness and comfort of the old Bus, but since being pregnant she had never appreciated the Playground more. Not only could they never have raised babies on a plane, she wouldn’t have fit into the bunks by herself while pregnant, let alone her and Fitz.

They changed into their nightclothes and climbed into bed, Fitz kissing a path across her stomach. “My babies are doing well tonight?”

“I think they’re happy now that daddy’s here.”

He smiled at that and kissed her soundly. “And the love of my life? How’s she doing?”

“Happy now that her husband is here.” She tangled one hand in his curls, tugging him down to meet her mouth. Her kisses were voracious and he responded in kind.

As his lips trailed down to tickle her neck, he said, “Skye’s already ordered the monkey wallpaper. Thank you a-again for agreeing.”

“Mmmm, you’re welcome, darling,” she said, sighing as he sucked on her pulse point.

“I’ve already started some designs for the, uh, furniture, the cribs and changing tables and rockers for us, that stuff. Mack says we can probably get the wood in for it by…mmm…the end of the week.” One of his hands slipped under her nightdress, stroking up and down her thigh. “Oh, and Coulson stopped by the lab.”

“Did he?” she murmured against his mouth before biting his bottom lip.

Fitz licked the roof of her mouth and then rolled them over so that she was kneeling over him, her knees bracketing his hips. “Uh huh,” he said, steadying her with his hands on her waist. “Said he wants me to start leaving more tasks up to Mack and, you know, the, the techs, focus just on the ultrasound machine and on the most urgent things, you know, things only I can do. Since I’ll be basically nonexistent in the lab for the first few months after the babies come, they need to learn how to deal without me.”

“Seems reasonable,” she said as she untied the drawstring of his pajama pants, mentally thanking Coulson for saying all the right things.

He ran his hands through her hair as he kissed up her throat, leaving marks in his wake. “I love you, Jemma.”

“I love you too, Fitz,” she said adoringly. And then she let him take her to bed.

\--------

She was making lunch for herself and Fitz in the kitchen a few days later when Trip approached her. “Hello! Would you like a sandwich?” she said, indicating the spread of lunchmeat on the counter in front of her.

“Sure. Roast beef sounds great.” He leaned on the counter. “Would you like to have lunch with Sharon Carter?”

Jemma almost dropped the mustard as she stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Sharon Carter, she used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before the whole Hydra thing, she works for the FBI now. She’s still one of the good ones, but we don’t really talk about it much because whenever you bring it up, Coulson cries about the whole defecting thing.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she’s Peggy’s niece but we’re close in age so we kind of grew up together and we were at the Academy at the same time. I used to see her a lot and we still keep in touch. I try to keep her up to date on how we’re doing with everything that isn’t completely classified—with the Director’s approval, of course, he’s still hoping she’ll come back.”

Jemma frowned as she spread the pesto aioli on Fitz’s sandwich. “Why would she want to have lunch with me?”

He bit into the sandwich she slid over to him, chewing slowly. “I thought about what you were saying the other day, about naming one of the twins after Aunt Peggy. And while I tried to help, I’m not sure I was the best person out there for the job.”

“I really did appreciate what you said, Trip.”

“I’m not saying I wasn’t a good person, I’m just saying there’s better,” he said with a grin. “There’s not a lot of people who still know Aunt Peggy as well as Sharon does. So I emailed her and she said she’d like to have lunch with you if that’s possible. And I thought maybe we could set it up after your doctor’s appointment at the end of the week since you have to go off base for that anyway.”

Nodding quickly, Jemma said, “If that’s all right with May, I’d love to. That’s so thoughtful of you, thank you so much for doing that for me.”

He patted her back and shook his head. “It was just an email. Not a big deal. Plus, I’m kind of attached to the idea of having a Peggy niece now.” He picked up the tray of sandwiches, snacks, and drinks for her and Fitz and helped her carry it to the lab; they weren’t working on anything potentially biohazardous today, which meant she was allowed to enter. “I’ll talk to May about it and then email Sharon back based on what she says.”

Fitz was working on designs at his usual station when they approached. “Lunch already?” He took the tray from Trip and put it on one of the back tables before dragging Jemma to the holotable. “What do you think?” he said, magnifying the design of the crib he had been working on. “For the…the…?”

“The nursery?” she said and he nodded with a sigh. She examined it closely, impressed by the intricate carvings and safety measures he had included. “Fitz, it’s beautiful.” She leaned over and kissed him, then leaned her head against his shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “I thought I’d go with a ch-cherry wood finish to give it a nice richness and because you like cherry.”

“I do like cherry,” she said, pecking a kiss on the underside of his chin.

“I know what you like.” He kissed her tenderly, then led her over to where their lunch was still waiting. Jemma waved at Mack where he was working across the room. “So, are you having a good day?”

“Good enough, I suppose. More paperwork, as usual. You really need to get better at filling out your request forms, they’re a mess, you left most of the important spots blank.” She gave him a disapproving look as she bit into her sandwich. “Just because I know what you want doesn’t mean you can file them inappropriately.”

He had the good grace to look shameful as he squeezed her hand. “Yes, dear.” But then he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and one of the babies kicked and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be annoyed anymore. Pregnancy hormones were a hell of a drug. “Anything else happen today?” he said, obviously trying to be polite before he started to ramble about his latest engineering breakthrough.

Deciding to indulge him, she just shook her head casually. “Not really. Just thinking about baby names. Now, tell me about your day.”

\------

Due to a national emergency, only May was able to accompany her to her doctor’s appointment. Trip was out in the field while Fitz was stuck in the lab working back end, but he told her that he was expecting text message updates about every little thing the doctor said. While the Director had wanted May running point on this mission, May had let it be known from the beginning of her pregnancy that only the world literally ending was going to stand in the way of her helping Jemma with whatever she needed.

After they checked the babies’ heartbeats and did the physical exam, the doctor sat down with Jemma to review the results. “You’re looking very good, Jemma. You and the babies are in excellent health. You don’t smoke, you don’t drink, you eat well, you take your vitamins: all signs of what should be a happy pregnancy.”

“That’s good!” Jemma said, smiling at May, then the doctor. “That’s good, right?”

“It’s good for now,” the doctor assured her. “I still want to keep an eye on you and track your progress because twins can be riskier, but if you and the twins keep continuing at this pace, you should be fine and I don’t think we’ll have any reasons to worry. My only concern at the moment is that they’re both a bit on the larger side and you, my dear, are not, but we’ll see how they develop as you get into the third trimester. With twins, it’s possible that you won’t get all the way through the third trimester without going into labor anyway. It’s not unlikely to deliver as early as 32 weeks even.”

Jemma nodded to herself as she texted the information to Fitz. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“For now, I just want to suggest that you continue with your diet and prenatal vitamins as you are and try to integrate some light exercise into your routine. I know that you were active before and it can be difficult to maintain that when you’re tired and uncomfortable, but it’s important.” She smiled and patted Jemma’s shoulder. “I often recommend prenatal yoga to my patients because it can help them start to understand their changing body, but even a brisk walk that’s outside of your normal activity is good for you.”

 “We’ll work on it,” May said. Jemma wondered exactly what kind of pregnancy exercises the Cavalry knew, but was smart enough not to doubt the woman.

After they made her follow up appointment, Jemma and May piled into the SUV and set off for the restaurant where she was supposed to meet Sharon. Somehow, she was more nervous about this than she had been about seeing how her children were. She twisted her hands together nervously. “What if we can’t find her?” Maybe she should have asked Trip for a picture.

“I know what Sharon Carter looks like,” May said, pulling off the highway.

“Oh. Right.” Bouncing her knee, she said, “Do you think she’ll like me?”

May reached over and squeezed her hand. “Haven’t yet met a person who didn’t.”

The restaurant was a small Italian place and Jemma could feel her stomach rumbling. Absentmindedly, she texted Fitz to remind him to eat—real food, not just snacks, at least two different parts of the food pyramid must be present in order for it to be considered a lunch and if it contained “processed” or “canned” it didn’t count.

They had only been standing there for a few minutes when she heard someone call May’s name. They turned to see a young blonde woman about Jemma’s age approaching them, pushing a pair of sunglasses up onto her head. It hadn’t occurred to Jemma that she would recognize May, but it probably should have. The other two women shook hands and greeted each other before Sharon smiled at Jemma. “You must be Agent Fitz-Simmons.”

“Jemma, please,” she said, holding out her hand. “Thank you for inviting me to lunch, Agent Carter.”

“I was intrigued. And feel free to call me Sharon,” she said. “Will you be joining us, Agent May?”

May shook her head. “I have other business to attend to. Give me a call when you’re ready to be picked up, Jemma.”

After saying goodbye to May, Jemma and Sharon got a table inside the restaurant. “I hope Italian is okay,” Sharon said as she looked over the menu. “I know you can’t do wine, but I figured everything else was probably safe.”

“I like Italian quite a bit actually,” Jemma said. “We don’t get the good stuff on base a lot. Just a lot of jarred sauce over and over again. I’m fairly certain that’s the only thing some of the men know how to make.”

Sharon smiled, flipping the page of her menu absentmindedly. “How is everything going over there? With S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Jemma hesitated; she wasn’t entirely sure what Coulson would want her to say. “Well, we do create quite a good amount of paperwork.”

She threw her head back and laughed at that. “They’ve got you on desk duty?”

“I think I might give birth to a desk at this point.” Jemma sighed and rested her hands on her stomach. “I can’t tell you how much I miss the lab.”

“Trip told me you were a scientist, biochem, right?”

“Mmmhmm. My husband’s an engineer and he’s not carrying the children so he still gets to work and it’s so incredibly frustrating because he’s talking about calibrating the new holotables and all I get to talk about is stamps and stapling.” She perked up a little when the desserts on the back page of the menu caught her eye. “At least the Director has banned him from all field assignments as well so he can’t rub that in my face. Says he won’t be responsible for anyone losing a father.”

The waitress approached them at that point with a basket of bread and took their orders. Jemma considered the fact that she might have gone a little bit overboard on the appetizers, then reasoned that she was eating for three and that Fitz would obviously eat all of the leftovers she brought home. “You’re having twins, right?” Sharon said as she ripped a breadstick in half. Jemma made a noise of assent. “Do you know what they are?”

“Oh, no, we’ve decided to be surprised.”

“What could be more surprising than twins?”

Jemma laughed and nodded. “Honestly, it _was_ quite a surprise. Twins don’t run in either of our families, we’re both only children even. They’re much more common in taller women, and I’m…well, less than average height. Usually older women are more likely to have twins, though that’s possibly due to the higher rates of fertility assistance. And twins are rarer for first pregnancies as well.”

“So you _really_ weren’t expecting it then?”

“Well, the further I got on in the pregnancy, the more I began to wonder. I was getting bigger quite quickly despite the fact that I couldn’t keep anything down. I was sick for weeks on end. And exhausted, imagine the most exhausted you’ve ever felt after a field mission and double it and then imagine it never going away.” Sharon winced in sympathy as Jemma patted her stomach. “But then the doctor gave me some tips and we figured out some foods that wouldn’t make me violently ill and told everyone they weren’t allowed to cook anything if I was going to be in the range of smelling it and it started getting better.”

Sharon glanced around the crowded restaurant. “Being in here is okay?”

Jemma smiled at her concern. “It hasn’t been that bad in a while, really. I’ve moved into the hungry all the time stage because apparently they take after their father and they want to eat all the time too.”

“Oh, well, then, here,” Sharon said, handing her a breadstick. Jemma giggled, but did accept the breadstick and bit into it. “So, Trip said that you wanted to talk to me about Aunt Peggy.”

“Right. Well. See, Peggy Carter has always been my hero,” Jemma said. Suddenly feeling nervous, she unrolled her napkin and laid the silverware out on the table, placing the cloth on her lap. “Even when I was a little girl, far before S.H.I.E.L.D. was in my sights as an option for my future, I admired her for her courage and conviction. She’s actually the one who made me become a scientist.”

Jemma paused as the waitress brought their drinks and their first round of appetizers and she found Sharon staring at her inquisitively. “What do you mean by she made you become a scientist?”

After taking a bite of the caprese salad, Jemma said, “I got my degrees awfully young—when S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited me I was 17 with two PhDs. And I love science, there’s very few things I love more. But even though we’ve certainly made strides since the days when, say, Peggy Carter was running S.H.I.E.L.D. it’s still not the easiest field to be in for a woman.” She tapped her mouth with her napkin. “I had so many people tell me that science wasn’t for women or that if I liked it, I should become a doctor or a veterinarian. Some people tried to tell me that I just wasn’t smart enough and I know now that it was because of my gender.

“While I certainly have been luckier than many of my female peers in where I’ve been able to work—the Director is very, very respectful, he’s a good man—it hasn’t been an easy path to take. There were times when I wanted to quit or thought I wasn’t going to be good enough to meet their standards. But then I thought about what your aunt would have done and how she would have shown them that not only was she good enough but that all women are, and what could be more important than that?” Jemma couldn’t help but smile. “If it hadn’t been for the inspiration of Peggy Carter, I might not have become a biochemist, and I wouldn’t have joined S.H.I.E.L.D. or met my husband and I wouldn’t be having these babies! So I can’t help but think that one of them deserves to be named after her. I want them to be inspired by her too. And I want them to know of her beautiful legacy and live up to that. But you’re her family and I know she’s important to you, so I didn’t want to do such a significant thing without seeking your approval.”

Sharon nodded slowly. She looked like she was about to say something when the waitress brought out their salads, but instead she just cleared her throat. “I actually have to check in at the office,” she said. “Would you excuse me for just a moment?”

“Of course,” Jemma said. She pulled her own phone out of her purse. “I should probably text the husband too. He worries.” Fitz texted back that they were still working on the mission, but that he had eaten some soup prepared by Koenig (she knew it was probably heated from a can, but it was a fair enough compromise during a high-stakes mission) and that he missed her and loved her and couldn’t wait to see her when she got home.

 When Sharon returned to the table, she said, “Sorry about that. Work can be a bit overwhelming.”

“You know that I understand that. I’m sure it can’t be that much different than S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“It is and it isn’t,” Sharon said. She started talking about what she did now for the FBI and how everything had changed since the reveal that S.H.I.E.L.D. was actually Hydra, with Jemma inserting information about how S.H.I.E.L.D. was different under Coulson’s new reign. They chatted casually about their jobs and what they did with their little bit of spare time throughout the rest of lunch.

Jemma was trying to decide what dessert she wanted when Sharon’s phone rang. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” she said with an apologetic smile. The call only took a few minutes and seemed to be rather positive because when Sharon hang up, she was practically beaming. “Sorry again. So I know that this wasn’t about us getting good Italian food even though we really should more often. I don’t know if Trip thought I should be the Carter family representative for you to stake your claim about you wanting to honor Aunt Peggy by naming one of your twins after her, but…look, if it’s up to me, I really think you should. If this is a try out on how you are as a person and how great you could be a mom, I’m essentially sold.”

She blushed bright red, surprised at the sweet candor from the other woman. “That’s very kind of you to say.” She took a long sip of her water. “Do you really think it would be all right though? I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding on a special thing.”

“Aunt Peggy is special, but you’re not intruding. I think anyone else in the family would feel the same way,” Sharon assured her. “Trip seems to love you and he’s practically family. I respect his opinion more than most people.”

“As do I. He’s rarely off base on the important things.”

“I’m sure he would love to see a little Peggy toddling around S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters again.”

She liked the mental image of that, but couldn’t help but feel hesitant. “But…wouldn’t you want to name your future child after her? She is your aunt, after all. I wouldn’t want to steal your baby name.”

Sharon grinned widely at her. “The fact that you’re even concerned about that is adorable. Yes, stealing baby names is the lowest of crimes, but it’s going to be years before I even think about having a child. I think by that point the world will have enough room for two Peggy’s. It certainly won’t be happening within the year.” She shrugged. “Plus, for all we know, we could both have boys.”

“Or I suppose one of them could prefer Margaret.”

“Or Maggie.”

Jemma shuddered. “Oh, not Maggie. That would be tragic.” She relaxed back in her chair, suddenly feeling at ease. “Thank you, Sharon. You have no idea how much better I feel after all of this.”

“Thank you for wanting it,” she said. “Would you maybe also want to go meet Aunt Peggy?”

One of her hands flew up to her heart as she tried to catch her breath. “Are you serious?”

“That was actually her nursing home on the phone earlier.” Sharon licked her lips slowly. “Aunt Peggy has Alzheimer’s. It’s pretty advanced. She has good days and bad days. But she’s been having a string of good days lately and today she’s actually been at her most lucid so it’s a great opportunity for us to go say hi.” She fiddled with her napkin where it lay on the table. “Trip said that you would probably understand.”

Letting out a long breath, Jemma smiled and twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “I understand how hard it can be, but I’m sure she’s making the best of it. As you seem to be.”

“Do you have a relative with Alzheimer’s?”

“Oh, um, well, my grandfather had it, back in England, though I didn’t get to see him often because I was away at university.”

Sharon nodded in understanding. “So, would you like to go see her?”

“I was going to get dessert, but I would much rather go meet my lifelong hero, yes.”

“Oh, no, we can still get dessert,” Sharon said quickly. “We’ll eat it in the car on the way there.”

Grinning and thinking of Fitz, Jemma said, “Well, the babies do make a good place to rest food.” Sharon smiled back and waived the waitress down for the check.

As they drove with containers of chocolate cake and white chocolate raspberry cheesecake open between them, Jemma could see why Sharon had chosen that restaurant: it was only a few minutes away from the nursing home, even considering the midday traffic. When they arrived at the home, Sharon didn’t bother signing in; she just waved to the woman at the desk, who waved back. Jemma wondered how frequently she must visit to be so well known.

Peggy Carter’s room was on the third floor and the door was propped open. Sharon knocked before they walked in. “Hey, Aunt Peggy, I…didn’t know you already had a visitor.”

Peeking around Sharon’s shoulder, Jemma’s jaw dropped when she saw Captain America sitting in a chair next to Peggy Carter’s bedside in street clothes, just a button down and jeans. At first she wasn’t sure who she was more nervous about seeing, but then Peggy Carter turned in her bed and smiled at her and anxious butterflies erupted in Jemma’s stomach. No matter what Coulson said, as magnificent as the Captain may be, he could not hold a candle to Peggy Carter.

“Sharon, dear, how good to see you,” Peggy said. “And who is this lovely woman?”

“This is my friend Jemma,” Sharon said. She put her hand on Jemma’s back and gently guided her closer to Peggy’s bedside. “Don’t be nervous,” she whispered, then said slightly louder, “She works for S.H.I.E.L.D. She’s a friend of Antoine Triplett’s. We can go though, if you’re busy.”

“Rubbish.” Peggy turned to Steve. “Steve, dear, would you fetch a few more chairs? I daresay this young lady looks like she may need to sit down.” As Steve left the visitor’s chair to go get more, Jemma went and sat in it. Peggy smiled playfully. “So, a friend of Antoine’s. Is this little miracle his? He always was a flirt, just like Gabe.”

Jemma blushed. “Oh, oh, no. He really is just a friend. The twins are my husband’s.”

“Ah, an Englishwoman like myself.” Peggy’s brown eyes twinkled. “So far from home! Let me guess, field agent?”

“Well, not currently,” Jemma said, laughing and rubbing her stomach. “But I have done my fair share of field work. I’m a biochemist though so I’m in the lab quite a bit too.”

“Smart too, oh, I like you already.” Jemma beamed at the praise, feeling her cheeks go red as Peggy looked her over. Peggy folded her hands on her lap and said, “So, tell me how S.H.I.E.L.D. is going now.”

Suddenly feeling on the spot, Jemma cleared her throat. “Well, um, we do have 100% less Hydra than under the former management. Not that that was really the fault of Director Fury. I think. He was certainly not Hydra though. It’s a rebuilding year again and it probably will be for a while, but things are going well. We, uh, never run out of staples.” She winced, knowing that that was not the pitch that Coulson would have given or wanted her to give.

Still, Peggy was smiling at her. “Are you here to recruit me?”

Sharon groaned. “Aunt Peggy…”

“I’m here because you’re my hero,” Jemma said quickly. “You have been since I was just a young English girl wanting to make a difference in the world. Knowing all the work you did with the SSR and then S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me the strength to go after my goals.” Jemma took a deep breath. “And I earned two PhDs by the time I was 17 and I was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. and I became a field agent and now I run their science division with my husband and I’m having twins and all of that is possible because what you accomplished made me feel like it was all possible. So I wanted to say thank you.”

Jemma had to look away from her idol to wipe her eyes, noticing then that Captain Rogers was waiting in the doorway with two folding chairs. Sharon and Peggy didn’t seem to notice. Smiling lightly, Peggy reached out for her hand, cradling it in her own. “I’m touched you think so much of me, dear.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Jemma said as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I cry at everything these days.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Peggy reached over to the box next to her bed and handed her a tissue.

Laughing as she dabbed her eyes, Jemma said, “You know, I’m not even sure if I’m having a girl or not? But I do know that if I do have a girl, I would want her to feel that anything is hers to achieve. I was hoping that you would let me give her that inspiration and guidance in her life by giving me your blessing to uh, maybe…maybe name her Peggy.”

Peggy’s face softened as she looked a Jemma. “You want to name your child after me?”

“It’s always sort of been a dream of mine, actually,” she admitted softly.

She nodded slowly, then she patted Jemma’s hand. “Well, I think I’d be quite honored.”

Jemma’s heart leapt into her throat. “Really?”

“That such an accomplished young woman such as yourself, whose daughter will no doubt be just as impressive, wants to carry on my name. Well, I’m not sure I even feel worthy of such praise.” She smiled widely. “I will, however, accept it graciously and tell you that I cannot wait to see what my young namesake will achieve.”

“Thank you,” Jemma said, sniffling. She looked over at Sharon, who grinned broadly at her. “Thank you so much, Agent Carter.”

“Oh, please, if you’re going to name your child after me, you must at least call me Peggy. Aunt Peggy, even. I insist.”

Jemma’s cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling as Peggy reached over for Sharon’s hand as well. “Now, I want all of you to tell me how saving the world is going. Give an old lady some hope.”

They had only been chatting for about fifteen minutes when there was a loud crash in the hallway. Sharon and Captain Rogers sprang immediately from their seats to inspect the ruckus while Jemma placed a comforting hand on Peggy’s shoulder; she could feel the old woman trembling beneath her touch. “A cart just fell over,” Sharon said as she came back into the room, but Jemma could see her hand still resting at the holster on her hip. “They were just collecting the rest of the lunch trays. You know how those carts are. Steve’s helping them pick up.”

Peggy blinked several times, looking around the room sluggishly before settling her gaze on Sharon. “Amanda?”

Exhaustion quickly set into Sharon’s features and Jemma could feel her heart begin to break for both of these women. “No…no, Amanda’s in Richmond, Aunt Peggy.”

“You look just like Amanda.”

“I know,” she said softly, stepping gently towards the bed and smoothing the sheets beneath her palm. “But Amanda and your brother are in Richmond. I’m Sharon, I’m Amanda and Harrison’s daughter. I’m your niece.”

Peggy nodded slowly and Jemma could see tears gathering in her eyes. “Oh. And…and where am I?”

“This is where you live, Aunt Peggy. You’ve lived here for a while,” Sharon said, sitting back down next to her. An old, familiar ache was gathering in Jemma’s chest that she couldn’t fight down and she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “I visit you all the time, and Harrison and Amanda come when they can too.”

Captain Rogers came in at that moment, sticking his hands in his pocket. “Everything’s cleaned up. Nothing was damaged, no harm done.”

“Steve?!” Peggy said, voice hoarse, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re here! You’re—oh gosh, you’re alive. Oh, you look exactly the same.”

Sadness set into Captain Roger’s blue eyes as he fought to smile. “Well, I had to come see you as soon as I could, Peg.”

Sharon swallowed hard as she looked at Captain Rogers and Jemma. “Could you two give us a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Jemma said softly. She ducked her head as she excused herself into the hallway, with Captain Rogers closing the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” Captain Rogers asked, brows narrowed in concern.

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled at him carefully, twisting her hands together.

He placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It’s fine if you’re not. If you’re not used to something like this, it can be scary and—”

“My husband has brain damage.” Captain Rogers stopped talking immediately and stared at her. Jemma smiled again. “He sustained permanent injury to his temporal lobe while saving my life from a Hydra attack. He’s healed remarkably well from it, he’s always been strong. Most days you wouldn’t even know. But it doesn’t change the fact that he has brain damage and my children are going to have a father with brain damage. He still has trouble with speaking at times where he can’t communicate as quickly or thoroughly or effectively as he would like to due to the aphasia, though it’s improved dramatically from where it was. His stutter and tremor still come back when he’s in a highly emotional situation. Thinking of it now, I can only imagine what giving birth is going to be like.

“So while I appreciate your concern, I have no troubles with what I’ve just seen other than the inevitable sadness that comes with watching a great woman suffer. I do, however, admire her for how strong she manages to be during her lucid moments and what she manages to make of her good days. While no one could fault her for having a fragile spirit knowing that those who love her must watch her fade away, she somehow manages to still be that figure of strength that I’ve always respected and for that I just respect her more.” Patting his shoulder, she said, “I think the question here, sir, is are you all right? As hard as it is for anyone to witness someone they idolize go through such a debilitating illness, I know firsthand how excruciating it is when it’s someone you love and you feel like there’s nothing you can do.”

Captain Rogers said nothing for a few moments. “You should name your daughter Peggy.”

Jemma blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“The world needs more Peggy’s,” he said slowly, regarding her with a new light in his eyes. “And I think a daughter raised by you would achieve all that Peggy Carter ever set out to do, if not more.”

Swallowing around a lump in her throat, Jemma tried to blink away her sudden tears, reminding her hormones that it wasn’t always time to cry. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I expect a full report on her status,” he said in a playfully authoritarian voice as he pulled a small notepad out of his shirt pocket. “Including baby pictures.”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” she said, giggling.

He pressed a piece of paper to her palm. “Call me Steve.” When she looked down at the paper, she saw a phone number and email address written in blue pen. Coulson was going to die.

At that moment, Sharon came out of Peggy’s room, closing the door softly behind her. “I got her calmed down, but I don’t think she’s up for any more visitation,” she said, disappointment clear on her face.

“More than understandable. I can have May come and pick me up here.” Jemma stepped up to give the other woman a hug. “Thank you so much for today. It means the world to me.”

“Thank you for coming,” Sharon said honestly, squeezing her back. “I think you being here and wanting to have a new Peggy really did put her in high spirits for a bit, even if it couldn’t last. You’ll keep me updated, right? Trip has my contact info. And maybe one day Peggy can meet Peggy.”

The very idea made tears come to Jemma’s eyes again. “I’d love nothing more.”

\-----

Jemma was quiet for most of the trip back to the Playground and not for the first time she was glad that it was May who was her escort because she didn’t question her silence, only offered a comforting presence. When they made it back to the base, she found Fitz in the kitchen. “Hey,” he greeted her and kissed her softly. “I was just looking for something to make for dinner.”

“You were going to cook?” she said, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“Well, I was going to see what we had and, uh, determine if I could cook any of it and if not, ask someone else to do it for me because…you’re pregnant and have to eat good food.”

She shook her head. “You were going to use my pregnancy to get out of making dinner!”

“Look, I just…I just really feel like my wife a-and future children deserve better than f-frozen pizza which is mostly where my…my skills in the kitchen end.”

Placing her bags on the counter, she surveyed him with her arms crossed over her chest. “You know that you could literally build every appliance in here from scratch, right?”

“Doesn’t m-mean I can use them to make anything edible!”

Jemma kissed him softly. “Luckily, I went out to lunch today and I went a little over the top, so I have a bunch of leftovers. No one has to cook.”

“Yeah?” He helped her unload the takeout containers on to the counter, taking a look inside each. “This is why I married you.”

“For leftover Italian food?” she said, laughing.

“Because you care about…about people. Because you’re incredible.” Fitz stepped into her space and kissed her slowly, wrapping his arm around her waist as he said slowly, “You’re the most amazing woman in the world and you’re the love of my life and I can’t imagine loving anyone more than you and our twins.”

“Oh, Fitz.” All the emotions of the day overtook her and she cried into his shoulder as he rubbed her back slowly, whispering soothing things into her ear. “I love you too.”

He pushed her hair back from her face, gently wiping away her tears. “I know. Are you okay?”

“Just…baby stuff. I’m fine.” Smiling at him, she said, “Do you want to preheat the oven and we’ll get this stuff warmed up and eat?”

Fitz nodded and did so, getting her some clean baking sheets for the stuff that had to go in the oven and plates for what had to go in the microwave. As she emptied the takeout containers accordingly, he stood behind her, arms wrapped around her stomach and his chin on her shoulder. “You know, I’m…I’m almost done with the ultrasound machine. Two days, tops. Then I’ll spend less time in the lab, promise. Can help you with the paperwork, if you’d like.”

Smiling to herself, she said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

He kissed the back of her shoulder. “I’m just glad you and, uh, the babies are healthy. And we can keep an eye on them here soon.”

She nodded and turned to kiss his cheek. “By the way, if we have a girl, we’re naming her Peggy.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh? And when did we decide this?”

“Captain America decided it, Fitz.”

 He froze, blue eyes going wide. “Where exactly did you go to lunch?”

\-----

A few months later, Jemma Simmons was thoroughly exhausted but had never been happier in her life. She had once said that she never wanted to see Fitz in a hospital bed ever again, but was quickly changing her mind as he shared that bed with her and they each held one of their twins. “I have never loved you more than I love you at this moment,” he said softly, kissing the side of her head.

She leaned into him, feeling exhilarated by his presence and the knowledge that she had just brought their children safely into the world. “Thank you for being here,” she said.

“I promised you I wouldn’t pass out. I watched all those YouTube videos for practice.”

Jemma gave a watery laugh, sniffling. “That’s not what I meant. Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for being my best friend.” She kissed him tenderly.

“Always,” he whispered.

There was a knock on the door and Coulson poked his head in after they called out their response. “Would you guys mind some visitors?”

“Not at all,” Jemma said, feeling as if nothing could interrupt her feeling of contentedness. “They need to meet their family, after all.”

Coulson held the door open for an eager Skye, May, and Trip. “Everyone else is holding down the fort, but they said they’ll be by for visiting hours tomorrow,” Trip said. “Bobbi sends her love and said if we don’t bring back pictures, we will all experience pain.”

Skye immediately came to Jemma’s side of the bed and gave her the best hug she possibly could while not jostling the baby. “They’re so tiny,” she said, voice light with wonder.

“How are you feeling?” May asked, rubbing Jemma’s leg through the hospital blanket.

“I’m doing well, actually,” Jemma said with a smile. “I’m not sure I would ever want to deliver twins again—” she gave Fitz a look and he stared back at her wide-eyed, as if there was anything he could possibly do to prevent that “—but it was on the quicker side for a first delivery of multiples and there weren’t any drastic complications. And the babies are both doing very well.”

“They’re perfect,” Fitz said, kissing the child in his arms.

Smiling at him, Jemma said, “Fitz even stayed conscious and coherent for the entire delivery, even when I was close to screaming my head off.”

“I told you I would, I don’t know why you doubted me, I prepped!”

Trip chuckled. “So, what’d we get?”

Fitz and Jemma exchanged a smile before Fitz said, “We have a girl and a boy.”

“One of each,” Skye said excitedly. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Not that we plan on raising them in a particularly gendered environment,” Jemma said. “We want them to feel like they can be whoever they please.”

Smiling affectionately, Coulson came to stand next to Skye, holding his arms out to Jemma. “May I?”

“Of course, sir.” She sat up a little straighter so that she could hand the baby off to him.

He held the baby gently in his arms, rocking back and forth. “And who are you, you beautiful, beautiful child?”

Skye beamed next to him, adjusting the cap on the baby’s head. “Aww, you have Fitz’s curls, little one.”

“That is Margaret Rosalind Fitz-Simmons,” Jemma said, voice trembling softly. “Peggy.”

Coulson looked up to catch her eye, and when she looked over at Trip, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Peggy,” Coulson said, trying out the name. “Well, Peggy, I feel sorry for your brother because I already know you’re going to be my favorite.”

“Phil!” May chastised.

Jemma and Fitz exchanged a smile and Fitz cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “I guess, ah, you wouldn’t be interested in meeting Benjamin Phillip Fitz-Simmons then.”

They all looked at Coulson as he stared at the baby in Fitz’s arms. “Benjamin…Phillip?”

“I was told it was a good name,” Jemma said, shrugging.

Coulson gently handed Peggy off to May, who cooed at the small child in her arms, before he walked around the bed to Fitz. He bent down to pick up Benjamin, who blinked up at him with blue eyes. If anyone noticed that Coulson was suddenly crying softly—and in a room full of spies, everyone noticed—no one mentioned it. “Well, now I don’t know which one is my favorite.”

May smiled down at Peggy, then at Jemma and Fitz. “They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Fitz said, wrapping his arms around Jemma and pulling her close. “They take after her.”

Jemma rolled her eyes and shook her head before curling into him. “I don’t know,” Skye said, looking closely at Benjamin. “I can see both of you.”

Pleased at that confirmation, Jemma said, “Benjamin, do you want to meet your Aunt Skye?”

Coulson only displayed a bit of reluctance to let go of the baby as he placed him gently in Skye’s arms. Skye was weeping openly as she held onto him tightly and Coulson wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Skye?”

“I just never thought I’d be anyone’s Aunt Skye,” she said, kissing the top of Benjamin’s head and smiling at Jemma and Fitz. “Thank you.”

“We love you, Skye,” Jemma said and Fitz nodded in agreement, reaching out to squeeze her arm.

Clutching Benjamin tightly, Skye said to him, “I know that you already have the greatest parents on earth and there’s no one I love more because they are the best people ever but I want you to know that I love you so much and I’m going to take such good care of you and your sister. Cool Aunt Skye is here. And if you ever need anything, I’ll be there. And I’ll buy you a puppy even though they’re gonna say no, I promise.” She stroked Benjamin’s tiny cheek. “You will never be alone.”

Fitz reached for the box of tissues for his wife as Jemma began to cry into his hospital scrubs. He kissed her forehead and rubbed her back as Jemma tried to process the overwhelming feelings of love she was feeling for herself and her husband and her children. In this moment, she thought she would even be okay with the puppy. But still not a monkey.

May handed Peggy to Trip, who gave the baby a dazzling smile. “So, what made you decide to go for it?” he asked as he measured Peggy’s tiny fingers against his own larger one.

“I received a very positive affirmation that I should.”

“Oh yeah? From whom?”

Jemma grinned. “From Aunt Peggy.”

Trip’s eyes went wide as Fitz nodded. “Also Captain America told her to.”

Coulson stopped cooing over the babies long enough to stare at them. “Excuse me?”

“In fact, I promised Sharon and Steve I would send some photos,” Jemma said. “Does anyone have a camera on them?”

Coulson sputtered. “ _Steve?I_ ”

“My phone’s in my pocket, it’s got a really great camera,” Skye said and May reached in to grab it, taking over the role of unofficial photographer as Coulson continued to interrogate his biochemist.

“I think we should get a picture of all of us together,” Jemma said after several rounds of pictures had been taken. She was starting to feel the exhaustion take over and the babies were starting to fuss and she knew Fitz was close to kicking everyone out, but didn’t want them to leave before this moment was properly memorialized.

Skye nodded and handed Peggy to her mother. “My camera app has a timer.” Fitz took Benjamin from May as she and Coulson stood by his side of the bed. After setting up the camera, Skye squeezed in between Jemma and Trip, wrapping her arm around her best friend; Trip’s arm was long enough to wrap around both of them. “Say ‘babies!’”

Skye fetched the camera after it took the shot. “I can send all of these pics to your phone and your email,” she said as she opened the photograph up to show them.

“Oh, please do,” Jemma said. It was a beautiful picture: everyone looked deliriously happy, eyes and smiles bright, and she didn’t even look half bad for having just given birth to twins. “I think I might get it framed for the nursery.”

“I’ll take care of that for you,” May said. “It’ll be there when you come home.”

Benjamin was apparently not as fond of the idea because he started crying at that moment. Fitz rocked him and tried to shush him as Jemma sighed. “I think he’s hungry, Fitz.”

“And that’s our cue,” Coulson said. He patted Fitz on the back and came over to kiss Jemma’s cheek. “We’ll come by tomorrow to see how you’re doing and Bobbi, Mack, and Hunter said they’d be by too.”

“Baby shifts,” Skye said, giving Jemma another hug. “We love you. And we love you two.” She gave each of the twins a kiss on the forehead.

“Try to get some rest,” May said.

Trip gave Fitz a fist tap and squeezed Jemma’s shoulder. “And congratulations.”

As the door closed behind them, Jemma and Fitz carefully switched twins. He unsnapped the back of her hospital gown so she could feed and she leaned against him as Benjamin latched on. “Oh, yeah, I can tell he’s going to take after you,” she said. “Always hungry.”

“They take after you,” he said, sounding a bit choked up as he kissed her forehead. “Most beautiful things in the…in the entire world.”

She smiled through her exhaustion and turned her head for a true kiss. Fitz pressed his lips to hers until his phone chimed from the table next to the bed. Carefully, he reached over and picked it up. “Here, look,” he said. He showed her the picture Skye had just sent to them of all of them together: Trip, Skye, Jemma, Fitz, Coulson, May, and the twins, Peggy and Benjamin. It was their family, large and newly extended, full of the promise of new legacies.  


End file.
